


Ball Is Life

by dawnstruck



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm gonna make you cry today."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ball Is Life

**Author's Note:**

> Just something sweet and funny beause my fluff usually turns into angst.

Aomine is turning the ball over and over in his hands, hoping that the familiar weight will calm him down. It doesn't. In fact, Aomine's arms feel like noodles, so much so that the ball escapes his grasp and almost skips away. He catches it, naturally, his fingertips changing its course so it spins back into his embrace.

It's a tiny slip-up, miniscule even, but for him it's a first.

Midorima watches him from the corner of his eye, obviously having noticed the fumble, but fortunately doesn't comment on it. And he better not. Aomine's nerves are so frayed, he'd probably knock the glasses right off Midorima's face.

It's the first time in his life that Aomine is nervous before a game. He's been excited before, curious even. But never nervous.

Then again, it's not the thought of the game that has his guts churning so uncomfortably.

“Don't worry, Dai-chan,” Satsuki says, standing by his side and touching a small hand to his elbow in a soothing manner, “Everything is perfectly planned out. Nothing can go wrong.”

“I'm not worried about the plan, but about the outcome,” Aomine growls lowly, though it lacks bite.

Satsuki sighs.

“I'd never thought I'd ever have to say this to you, Dai-chan,” she says, a smile in her voice, “But you think too much.”

“It's time now, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu is suddenly there as well. His usual mellow and unassuming tone serves to avoid drawing anyone's attention.

On the court, Kagami and Himuro are finishing up their one-on-one, with Kagami barely winning.

“You can start now,” Tetsu informs him superfluously.

For a terrifying moment, Aomine is rooted to the spot, tempted to just change his mind and call the whole thing off. But Tetsu and Satsuki are looking at him expectantly, so he really can't run with his tail between his legs.

He digs his fingernails into the rough hide of his basketball and watches as, on the other end of the court, Kise is desperately trying to save his popsicle from Murasakibara.

“Oi, Kise!” he yells, and the distraction is enough for Murasakibara to gain the upperhand and simply close his mouth over the popsicle. Kise lets out an outraged whine, but turns towards Aomine anyway.

“What?” he demands, with his hands on his hips and a petulant pout.

Aomine only smirks, “Play one-on-one with me.”

 

“I need your help,” Aomine tells Satsuki, once he's finally made up his mind.

“What else is new,” Satsuki rolls her eyes, but Aomine just plows on, “I need you to arrange a meeting with the old team.”

“Old team Teiko or old team Touou?” she asks, looking surprised and obviously with several other questions just waiting on her lips, “And what kind of meeting?”

“Teiko,” Aomine replies, “And just a friendly match on the streetcourt near the arcade. Fuck, doesn't even have to be everyone, if they can't make it. Ask Kagami instead. Or hell, even Sakurai. But Kise definitely has to be there.”

Satsuki blinks, confused by his odd request, “Dai-chan, you're usually never the one to organize casual group meetings.”

“Exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, feeling himself flush, “If I did it, everyone would become suspicious. But... if you invite everyone, you can just make it sound like some girly farewell party for me.”

At that she frowns, but once he's explained everything she is totally game.

“And you're calling me girly,” she huffs afterwards, but already pulls out her phone to text everyone.

 

“If I win, you have to buy me a popsicle,” Kise tells him straight-up.

“Fat chance of that happening,” Aomine snorts.

“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure,” Kise gives an insouciant smirk, pushing his hair out of his face, “After all, this is my lucky court.”

“Hm?” Aomine hums, cocking his eyebrow in faux ignorance.

“Don't you remember, Aominecchi?” Kise seems a little disappointed, lower lip jutting out, “This is the place where I beat you for the first time.”

“First and last time,” Aomine taunts, before tossing the ball at Kise with more force than necessary, “I'm gonna make you cry today.”

 

It's early October when they meet up again.

Almost a year has passed after their highschool graduation. They haven't seen each other since then, Kise travelling abroad, Aomine having gotten a scholarship and struggling through college, waiting to be officially scouted.

Aomine is still recovering from a headcold and he'd actually been studying for an important exam, but when Kise had rung him up him he'd been thankful for the distraction.

Kise is bright and perky, a dazzling smile lighting up his face, “Miss me, Aominecchi?”

“As if,” Aomine scoffs, but they both know it's a lie, “Let's play.”

Half an hour later, when he is sprawled out on the asphalt, lungs burning and his shirt uncomfortably sticky in the misty air of falling night, Aomine blames it on the lingering affects of his cold.

“Yes!” Kise fistpumps and then falls down on his ass in exhaustion, all semblance of grace and dignity gone.

“I did it,” he marvels and his voice does a weird little thing as he tries to sob and breathe at the same time.

“I beat Aominecchi,” he says, clearly not quite believing it.

“Lucky shot,” Aomine claims, though it wasn't.

“So lucky,” Kise agrees anyway, and then he is crying.

Aomine would laugh if he had the energy. If he didn't know that Kise had been fighting for this since the day they met, almost six years ago.

He turns his head, just enough to look at Kise. The other boy has his hands clenched around his knees like a child, and he is laughing and crying at the same time.

On anyone else it would be an ugly face, but he still manages to look pretty. Aomine wonders whether it's because he is a model or simply because he is Kise.

With quite some effort, Aomine manages to roll onto his side and push himself off the ground, coming to stand on unsteady feet.

“Hey, Kise,” Aomine says, bending down so Kise only has to tilt his chin up to look at him.

“Aominecchi?” Kise asks in a small voice, his eyes still bright with tears, but then they are already kissing.

 

“Your favourite shoe store is that way, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu points out when they reach the crossing and Aomine turns left instead of right.

“What? Yes, I know,” Aomine shakes his head and trudges onwards, making Tetsu fall into a light jog in order to catch up, “I don't need new shoes.”

“What else would Aomine-kun need that requires my presence?” Tetsu asks, eyeing him with that veiled curiousity that only those close to him know how to read, “Wouldn't Momoi-san or Kise-kun be better suited?”

“Yeah, not for this,” Aomine huffs and stops in front of a small shop, the lights in the shopping window glittering iridescently. Aomine takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

He half-expects Tetsu to say something, to at least make some kind of surprised noise, but instead he just follows quietly.

“Good afternoon,” the lady behind the counter greets them with a polite smile, “How may I help you?”

“Just looking around, thanks,” Aomine grunts and hunches his shoulders a little. He had specifically chosen to wear slightly finer clothes, so he wouldn't be turned away or directed to the cheaper merchandise. This is important, and important often equals expensive.

With narrowed eyes he inspects the laid-out ware, not even knowing what he is really looking for, just hoping that something special will draw him in, something that will simply feel right. He tries to not let the prizes deter him, to not think too much about what this decision entails.

He's still waiting for Tetsu to make a comment, to ask a question, but instead he is simply there by his side like a shadow, a silent support. Aomine can appreciate that. It was the reason why he had asked Tetsu instead of Satsuki in the first place. Satsuki would have loved to be here, would have given him sound advice on everything he would not even have considered was a criterion, but in the end, it is really all his decision.

Tetsu doesn't nag, doesn't push. Tetsu knows what Aomine needs right now. Maybe that is why he isn't inquiring about their purpose here. All things considered, it is probably pretty obvious anyway.

“Aomine-kun,” Tetsu says suddenly, gently touching his shoulder and directing him towards another display close by.

A glint of blue catches Aomine's gaze and he smirks at the realization that, even outside of basketball, Tetsu has proven himself to be a reliable friend, because this is exactly what Aomine has been looking for.

 

They go up against each other, and Aomine gets a ball in, just to feed his own ego, and to uphold the facade. If he were to go easy, Kise would immediately know that something was up.

But when Kise next steals the ball from him and Aomine makes a grab as though to get it back, he instead stumbles forward, tries to catch himself for a few steps, but then goes down hard, landing on his side.

Without missing a beat, Kise seamlessly falls into position and executes one of Midorima's three-pointers, not even sparing a single look at his fallen opponent.

That ass, Aomine thinks and makes a point of groaning loudly and gripping his knee with one hand.

“Dai-chan!” Satsuki calls out in surprisingly convincing worry, though Aomine can hear that slight hitch in her voice that betrays how she is actually supressing a giggle.

“I've never seen the idiot fall during a match,” he can hear Kagami comment from somewhere out of sight, “Is he drunk?”

“Please, shut up, Kagami-kun,” Tetsu sighs and then he is already by Aomine's side, carefully rolling him over and pressing something into his palm.

Aomine's fingers close around the gentle weight that has become so familiar during the past weeks while he carried it around in his pockets, caressing the velvet with his thumb and wondering which words to pick.

Kise, finally, seems to have realized that their match has come to a premature end, even though his annoyance over that fact apparently outweighs his worry over Aomine. For a moment, Aomine is sorely tempted to just get up and walk away, but it's not like he doesn't know this side of Kise yet.

“Are you alright?” Kise asks after all, though his voice sounds a little bit funny, obviously just as confused as Kagami that he would have made such an awkard blunder and gotten himself injured.

Because Aomine Daiki does not fall. Aomine Daiki certainly does not kneel.

Smoothly, he rolls over so that he is balancing on one knee in front of Kise.

 

“I got scouted,” Aomine tells him over dinner, casually as if it were no big deal.

For a long moment, Kise stops chewing. Then he swallows it down and smiles brightly.

“That's amazing, Aominecchi,” he cheers, putting down his chopsticks so he can clap his hands, “I'm so happy for you! And proud! Have you told Momocchi yet? And your parents? We have to call everyone.”

Aomine shakes his head, “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

At that admission, so simple in its honesty, a delicate blush creeps into Kise's cheeks.

“Aominecchi is so sweet,” he gushes and hides his face behind his hands for a moment. When he lowers them again, he has composed himself. His smile is still there, in his eyes and in the corners of his mouth, but he looks calmer now, more attentive, and there's a ragged edge to it.

“You're going to America then,” he concludes, because they've talked about this before, even if only ever in vague terms and never about what it would mean for their relationship.

They've not been together for long, have only moved in with each other at the end of last year. But they are comfortable around each other. They just work in a way that surprised all of their friends and, most of all, themselves.

But it has always been clear that Aomine would get scouted one day. That his only real chance of meeting new challenges would be by going to the States. Either that, or that Kise would get the breakthrough that would allow him to work internationally.

Whatever happened, in an abstract way they had both known that they would not have a long-term future together. The Now is nice, though. These little moments which make some tiny part of Aomine regret that he is good enough at basketball to make a living, because that kind of living will not include Kise in it.

It's ridiculous, of course. Without basketball he and Kise would never have met. Kise would have never started chasing after him. Kise would never have beaten him during that fateful game of one-on-one. And then, Aomine might have never fallen in love with him.

“Yeah,” he nods in response to Kise's previous question, though he can't even look up from his plate. A piece of chicken seems to have gotten stuck on the way down, and he clears his throat, hoping to get rid of it.

The legs of a chair scrape over the floor, and then Kise is standing up, walking around the table and coming to a stop at Aomine's side.

“Then we should celebrate,” he says, running a hand through Aomine's hair, and if the words sound slightly watery then neither comments on it.

 

“No way,” Kagami says in disbelief, ironically enough the first one to realize what Aomine is about to do, even as Kise is still blinking in confusion.

“Aominecchi?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, obviously not understanding how Aomine has gone from moaning in pain to looking up at him with such a serious look in his eyes.

“Kise,” Aomine says, swallowing around the lump in his throat before correcting himself, “Ryouta.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see how the others have gathered around them, first because of the accident, and then the even stranger display. He's pretty sure that Takao has his phone out and is filming them. No one says anything, though, and even the noises from the street are faint and far away as Aomine can only focus on Kise's face.

He's seen this face go from an overly pretty teenager to a stunningly handsome man. He's seen it smile and cry and bare its teeth. He's seen it first thing in the morning and fallen asleep to it at night. And now, he wants to see it age over the years, through every happiness, every hardship life has to offer.

“Ryouta,” he repeats, and it's still difficult to breathe, but the weight that had been sitting on his chest the entire day has been lifted away, “Nine years ago, I hit you with a basketball and it made you admire me. Three years ago, you beat me here, on this court, and it made me fall in love with you.”

Kise's eyes are wide now, stunned and disbelieving, because Aomine never verbalizes his feelings, not like this, especially in front of an audience. That alone should tip Kise off where this is going, but it seems he has not quite caught up to the purpose of it all.

“You said we should just enjoy ourselves as long as we can be together,” Aomine continues, “So I'm asking you to just stay together with me.”

“Aominecchi,” Kise says, obviously touched, but there is a mild frown marring his forehead that has Aomine get his walls up in preparation for a rejection.

“We already are together,” Kise reminds him, and the pressure of the moment finally makes Aomine's patience snap.

“No, you idiot!” he growls, feeling his eyebrow twitch, “I'm asking you to marry me.”

“Marry...” Kise's mouth falls open, “Men can't get married.”

“They can in the States,” Aomine points out, “Where I will be moving soon. You see what I'm trying to get at?”

“Oh,” Kise's face is still one of puzzlement, but his eyes manage to get even bigger anyway, “Oh!”

“Do you need much more time to decide? My knee is seriously starting to hurt here,” Aomine complains because this is reaching a level of embarrassment he did not count in.

“I- I-,” Kise stammers, though he is usually so eloquent, and his eyelids flutter, his lashes like butterfly wings, and fuck, Aomine is really in too deep.

“You didn't even get me a ring!” Kise accuses, his lips falling into that familiar pout.

“Of course I got you a- oh,” Aomine cuts off his impending stream of swearwords when he realizes that, yes, of course he bought a ring – but he did not show it to Kise.

“Fuck! Here it is,” he fumbles with the small casket that had still been hidden in his fist, struggling to open it with trembling fingers. When the lid pops open, he presents it to Kise, almost losing his balance and falling on his ass.

Kise gasps, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, his gaze fixed on the tiny treasure as though the reveal of it was what finally drove the point home. As though before, everything might have just been a stupid joke.

The ring is a simple but broad gold band with a gem set along the length of it, cut into a rectangle and deep blue in color.

“Is that a sapphire?” Kise marvels.

“A diamond,” Aomine corrects curtly, getting closer to his breaking point now, “What the shit, is this gonna change anything or-”

“Is it just because I beat you?” Kise asks and his hands are dangling by his sides now. His stance is light-footed as if he might just take a step back at any moment.

“What?” Aomine says dumbly, seriously not having expected an interrogation when he was the one popping the real question.

“You said you fell for me because I beat you that day,” Kise replies and his lashes are doing that fluttery thing again, “And- and I knew that in a way, but... if this is just because of some warped feeling of admiration, then... and believe me, I know this is rich coming from me... but then it's not really love.”

“Shit, Ryouta,” Aomine flinches back slightly, wondering just how long Kise might have been thinking something like this. Wondering whether this was why Kise had so easily accepted that Aomine would just leave him behind.

“No,” Aomine shakes his head, just once, carefully choosing his next words, “It's because you didn't give up on either of us. Because we've both been too proud and stubborn for our own good, but we made it work anyway. And I know you've always said that you don't want anyone to tie you down. But America, and modelling, and whatever life might throw at us... for once, I'd rather not do it on my own.”

“Oh,” Kise echoes his own previous reaction, and when he blinks next his tears come readily, falling from his cheeks.

“Give the guy a break already,” Aomine can hear Kagami mutter and then Satsuki squeals, “Just say yes, Ki-chan, or Dai-chan is going to faint!”

“I'm not gon-” Aomine wants to object, but there are indeed dark spots dancing in front of his eyes and he tips to the side before barely catching himself.

“Yes!” Kise suddenly yells and then he is throwing his arms around him, tumbling them both to the ground. The asphalt burns Aomine's elbows and he reflexively closes his fist around the ring as not to lose it.

“Yes!” Kise repeats, showering him in tear-wet kisses, and for a moment Aomine isn't quite sure what's happening.

A second later, realization hits him that he has asked his dumb blonde of a boyfriend to marry him, and said boyfriend just said yes. Said yes to marriage, and America, and being the spouse of a soon-to-be basketball star. Said yes to a shared future. Because living together was easy, but growing old was an altogether different matter.

“You actually went down on one knee,” Kise sobs into the side of his neck, but he is laughing as well, gleeful at the prospect of using the fact as blackmail material for the rest of their lives.

“Yeah, well, I thought if we get hitched in America, we might as well do it the Western way,” Aomine grumbles. He'd also done it because Kise was a huge sucker for grand romantic gestures, and because Aomine had thought that it would make his intentions more obvious.

The latter hadn't worked out quite as well, but since the overall result was as desired he probably shouldn't complain.

When Kise finally pulls back, their legs tangled together, he holds out his hand and obnoxiously waves it about in Aomine's face.

“The ring,” he prompts, “Put it on me.”

“Fine,” Aomine scoffs and, with bleeding elbows and aching knees, slides the engagement ring on Kise's long, slim finger.

Kise lets out a happy sigh, wringling his hand this way and that way, making the sunlight catch on the diamond and letting it sparkle.

“I have to tweet this,” he gushes, “Takacchi, did you get everything on camera?”

“Yup,” Takao calls back cheekily, “It's a bit shakey, though, because I was busy laughing at you idiots.”

“No tweeting!” Aomine snaps, wrestling Kise down before he can even pull out his phone, “Leave me my dignity.”

“Aomine-kun's dignity went down the drain when he tried to propose and forgot the engagement ring,” Tetsu comments dryly and Aomine glares at him, “You're a shit best friend, you know that?”

“And you're a killjoy,” Kise huffs, finally giving up on his attempts to reach his phone, instead curling his fingers into the collar of Aomine's shirt to drag him in, “Thank fuck you're pretty.”

“Thank fuck you said yes or else I would have had to kill you and everyone present to prevent anyone else from finding out about any of this.”

“Hm, good thing I really like diamonds,” Kise smirks, lifting his hand so the blue gem is aligned next to Aomine's eyes.

“Good thing I really like dumb blondes,” Aomine replies, ducking his head to catch his lips in a kiss.

“Meh, Akachin, can I leave?” Murasakibara asks, “I'm really losing my appetite here.”

“You will endure this, Atsushi, just like the rest of us,” Akashi says calmly, albeit with a slight strain to his voice.

“As cheesy as this is,” Kagami says, “Can we go back to playing basketball now?”

“Right!” Kise exclaims in sudden remembrance and lightly slaps Aomine on the shoulder, “I was totally gonna destroy you during our one-on-one.”

Without further ado, he wriggles out of Aomine's embrace and gets to his feet, slipping the ring off his finger and handing it to Satsuki, “Momocchi, hold on to this for me. Midorimacchi, pass me the ball.”

Aomine sighs and rubs his temple. Apparently, ball really is life.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post: http://dawnstruck.tumblr.com/post/120459585270/normans-angel-deycallmetrey-ball-is-really


End file.
